


Devil Moon

by frumious_bandersnatch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alastair loves Sinatra, Dean - Freeform, Dean is a prison guard, Gen, Human AU, JUST MURDER, Prison, Prison AU, alastair - Freeform, mentions of crime?, thrown in casually, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 00:58:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumious_bandersnatch/pseuds/frumious_bandersnatch
Summary: A simple prison au flash fiction piece for Supernatural





	Devil Moon

“Just when I think,” He crooned. “Oh, that I’m free as a dove, that old... devil moon,” With a sinister grin, a calloused hand gripped a cage bar as rotted as its occupant’s soul. “In your eyes so, deep in your eyes— blinds me with love.” He bounced his shoulders along to the tune, eyes half-lidded. His voice was smooth but off-putting, like rancid oil.

A night stick slammed down on his fingers, accompanied by the huff of the guard wielding it. “Quiet down there, Al.” Dean muttered, wiping the baton on his pant leg almost to clean it of the man’s touch.

“Oh, mm, come on, haven’t got much time left to be loud.” Alastair grinned, wiggling his fingers and tutting when he found the middle broken. “Don’t you want to know what put me here, son?” He rasped out, wrinkling his nose as he sat down on the tattered sheet of his old cot. He crossed his long, bowed legs and smirked, yellowed teeth and pale blue eyes shining in the dim light filtering into his cell.

“Don’t want to, don’t care.” But... Dean had to admit he was just a little curious. “To me, you’re just a stupid old bastard who managed to get himself locked up here.” He grunted, shaking his head as he moved to exit the hallway where this one prisoner- marked so dangerous he had to be out of contact with any others- was kept.

“Oh, you’re all open books to me, son. Sit down, why don’t you? You want to know, I can see it in your eyes, the way you hold yourself...” Alastair sneered, sharp blue eyes narrowed as he looked Dean up and down. “No harm’ll come of it, just closure. What do you say, boy? Do we have a deal?” He crooned, standing again and walking up to grasp the iron bars of the cage.

Oh, screw it. “Yeah, we gotta deal. Make it snappy, though.” Dean grunted and walked out to grab a plastic folding chair, plopping it haphazardly in front of the cell and sitting with a sigh.

“Make it snappy, he says. Explain decades in the, oh...” He glanced forlornly at the clock. “Forty some odd hours I have left on earth? I suppose I can, mm, give it my best...” He laughed, frail chest shuddering and jerking.

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed softly, taking a cigarette and a grubby silver lighter out of his pocket. This wasn’t exactly a conventional prison, so conventional rules didn't apply. Heaving a sigh, the guard closed his eyes and pondered what the old man would have to say.

“I was a pediatrician, you know.” Alastair informed, lazy grin spreading across his gaunt face. It was too tight— skin stretched taught over bone until it could almost snap, with unshaven salt and pepper stubble scattered across his chin.

“Yeah?” Dean furrowed his brow, taking a long drag of the Marlboro and letting it out in slow puffs. So what did Al do? It must have had something to do with kids, that’s why he mentioned he was a pediatrician. Dean wasn’t quite as dumb as he looked— logic got him a long way.

“I was charged with serial murder, battery, grand larceny... well, name a class A felony and it probably happened. I tried it all. Not on any of my patients, mind you, I do have a soft spot for children, Mr. Winchester.”

“How do you know my name?” Dean was suddenly seized with fear, and— No. He was an officer of the law, he wasn’t going to let an inmate in a cell intimidate him.

“I know lots of things, Dean-o.” Alastair rose to his feet, sneering down at the man before him.

“You know what? I don’t need to waste my time with you. And it’s Dean. My friends call me that and you, sir—“ His voice rose to a near yell. “—are not my friend. Not by a long shot. So sit your sorry ass down before I call the warden.”

“Sure you could, Dean, but maybe, maybe you don’t want to. Maybe you want to hear every little thing I did to them...” His eyes rolled back and his face was that of perfect pleasure. “Because you’re just as sick as me. So you’ll sit down, and listen to me. I’ve always wanted an apprentice.”

And he did, because... well, he was curious. He heard everything, what he did, who he did it to, his methods, his... god, his voice really got stuck in your head. Alastair made it sound so fun... what was he thinking? Alastair was a monster. But Dean couldn’t stop himself when he opened the cell door, embracing the doctor like an old friend, or when he snapped his coworker’s neck and escorted his new mentor outside. It was his voice... something about his voice got stuck there.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and leave kudos if you enjoyed! Constructive criticism is always welcome :)


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